


One-Word Prompt Portal Stories

by EumoirousHoney



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Tags will be added on as i add more chapters!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:41:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29789316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EumoirousHoney/pseuds/EumoirousHoney
Kudos: 2





	1. INTRO/BEFORE

Hello everyone! I'll be starting a little thingy here for miscellaneous Portal one-shot stories! Any story written here are "one word prompt" stories! If you have a word you'd like to see me write for, comment! Also, if you'd like a certain vibe along with the One Word prompt, I'll gladly allow it! <3

I can only ask for no nsfw, please.


	2. NOSTALGIA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes --  
> \- Fact & space are imagined as androids in this one shot.  
> \- Fact & Space are written in a more sibling-y fashion in this one shot.
> 
> Requested by one of my friends on discord! <3

Fact woke up late today.

Or, rather, "booted up" late today, in technological terms.

He's never been the one to frequently sleep in. It's not that he couldn't, he just never felt the need to sleep more than he had to. 8 hours minimum seemed to do the trick, so why waste more time than he needed?

Nonetheless, after a restful "sleep" of 12 hours, Fact woke up.

He lazily felt for his glasses on the desk next to him before reaching behind his back to pull out his charging cable. He stares mindlessly at his hands as he lets the last bit of sleep leave his groggy mind.

...

Gartenberg.

The groggy feeling one has after they wake up.

He repeats the word in his mind subconsciously as he pushes himself to his feet and goes to grab his coat. Supposedly, in humans, it can last for up to 2 hours, and can excede that amount if the human in question is sleep deprived before sleeping. This sensation is more commonly known as "sleep inertia".

He looks around his room. 

He sees his desk. Piled on top are groups of stolen books from the depths of Aperture, dulled sticky notes sticking outside of the sides of some of them. A small metal trashcan sits to the side of the desk, full of crumpled up paper and dead pens. 

Next to his desk is a window, slightly above his charging station, but not entirely. Fact thinks the window is pointless; he can't see anything out of it. If anything, it taunts him everytime he thinks too hard about it. The way the artificial light shines through it makes him wonder just how similar it REALLY is to sunlight from the surface.

He'd always wanted to go to the surface. Not alone, though.

He shakes his head and turns away from the window, reaching into one of the drawers on his desk. He pulls out a pair of pink-block eatings to put in, glancing in the wall mirror next to the door.

He first looks behind him. While purposefully looking away from the window, he instead looks to the reflection of his charging station. He always makes sure to dust it off before plugging himself in for the night. The cords lay on the ground untangled and neat, practically looking newly installed.

Then he looks to the floor and the walls. They're not what he'd prefer to have them look like, but he can't be bothered to send a message to RR (y'know, robot HR) to request a more...colorful change. He'll stick with the shades of gray.

And then to the books. They could be considered his most prized possession, at this point. Books that he found from various locations within the facility. Some from observation rooms, some hidden away, not meant to be discovered by anyone but who put it there, while others were left on decrepit bookshelves rotting away in break rooms. No matter the state of the book, or where he found it, he loves it the same as the rest...even if he favors history ones the most.

and then finally, after minutes of stalling, he looks to himself.

There was something he felt unsettling about his own reflection. Something about his appearance, when reflected back into his eyes, it reminds him of something he doesn't quite understand. He can't understand, he couldn't. 

Fact inhales through his teeth as one of his hands run through his hair, turning away from the mirror. He looked fine. And if not, he was sure a certain SOMEONE would make note to comment anyways.

Fact turns to the door, his hand placed gently on the knob. As he turns the knob, he sees the glint of his earings reflect in the metal. His free hand goes up and lightly rubs the corner of one of the earrings, a gentle smile crossing his face. The door opens, and his mind wanders to a slightly lighter note.

He remembers when Space got him those earings. Apparently in the lower gift shops of the facility, moreso meant for employees, they had a jewelry section. Space had apparently managed to sneak past the Cashier Core and snag a few pairs. 

The smile stretched across Space's fact as he heard his quickened steps approach him, tiny boxes in hand, it made Fact grin wider. He clearly recalls him tugging on his coat sleeve excitedly, pulling him out of a conversation only to shove bright, sparkling boxes into his face. He remembers the feeling of tears begin to surface in his eyes, but he blinked them away and patted his head in thanks -- returned by Space, with a spine crushing hug.

Fact mindlessly traced the corners of his earrings once more before his hands found their way inside his pockets as he left his room for the day.

It was off to a better start than he'd thought it would, even after waking up late.

He'd even forgotten about his previous worries.

Today will be a good day.


End file.
